Family visits

Uncle Itchy, Aunty Nancy, cousin Katie and cousin Erin arrived this afternoon. We had been anticipating their arrival and cleaned up the house and everything. Although E thought it a bit silly to clean her room, as she said she would simply close her door and not allow anyone in.

Judging the people who slowly emerged, blinking, from the car, Z, instead of introducing himself, declared, "Well, this is not as much fun as I thought it would be." And ran off.
E was overcome with shyness and hid her head behind me.

After Z excused himself for being rude and tried a more successful hello  and E broke the ice for herself by appearing in a series of fancy costumes, where she would make an entrance, curtsey, then disappear and return in another costume to repeat the pageantry until she found her voice and could actually talk, we went to show them the tree house. Standing on the tree house deck, Cousin Katie suddenly yelped and declared something bit her.
"Katie's scared of bugs. She's a girly girl" Her mother scoffed.
"Well at least she didn't shriek..." I joined in, happily riding cousin Katie's bug phobia.
Suddenly something stung ME right under my chin and I shriek. And flap. And probably cursed.
We had upset a hive of deadly, silent wasps. Everyone evacuates the tree house. Except Z, whom I did not realize was still up there until he got stung too.
Happily we discovered all of us survived the attack, and after some ice and a cuddle, we were none the worse for wear.

Z informed me that his real mother was lost and now he is stuck with me, his fake one. apparently his real mother got chopped into pieces. Later revised to loosing just her head, later revised into both of them walking in the desert, when Z stopped to play with a kangaroo and his mother wandering off and becoming lost. Yet the outcome is still the same. He is now stuck with me, his fake mother. 
I told him he could hang out with me until he found her and he said, very formally, thank you.
Then he told his father that when he grows up he will go into war and drive his father there too. Then fight him to the death. This future epic battle was caused over having to sit and find his calm spot due to another battle Z was fighting in his head.

The ladies (Including Uncle J) took E to get her ears pierced. Something she had been "ready" for for a week now. We all piled into the car and went to the mall, where I started to immediately feel the effects of my allergy to such places. E was rather awestruck, "This is a huge building with lots of smaller buildings inside it, and we can buy everything?!"
Unfortunately, by the time she was sitting in the ear piercing chair, with dots on her ears, she had psyched herself out so much that she started having a panic attack. But still she did not want to leave. I pulled the plug when I noticed she was actually beginning to hyperventilate.  Uncle J decided to give her a treat to help slave the trauma and immediately she is better, skipping about the store. She winds up with a makeup kit and a glittery collapsible pocket brush. I wind up with a disapproving frown. Uncle J winds up making fun of me. Then he gets her a milkshake from D&D and I put my foot down. More whispered hallarity. I decide Z will need a little treat to make it fair and we all tromp back to the ear piercing place where an identical glittery collapsible pocket brush is purchased for him. (By Uncle J, again.) I feel somewhat grumpy. When kids get stuff for no real reason, they think all of a sudden that this is the way it will be from now on, and it takes work to change the course of that. But nobody cares about this but me and my handsome husband. Everyone else laughs. Phooey.

Later Husband and I go and spray the hornet's nest and exact our revenge. The things were huge and horrible.

And today is family reunion day. Should be good.

Rhyming with children

The kids are at a fun stage of life where they rhyme everything, yet they have a limited vocabulary. They have no problem making up words to accommodate their efforts though, and the results?
The results go like this:

Loop, soup, goop, POOP! Ha! Hahahahahahaha!
See, bee, fee, me, re, PEE!  Hahahahahahahahahahaha!
luck, buck, suck, F...! (They know what this one means, so...not funny.)

(Funny story: I was trying to get us out the door, and one thing after another was holding us up. Because I am REALLY trying to curb my pirate mouth, I caught myself before I hissed out a no-say word and instead said "FFFaa fa fa fa." Z interjects,"Don't you mean, fuck, Mum?" Actually not really a funny story.) 0_0

Ruby, looby, nooby, BOOBY! (Intentional)

Whizz, fizz, his, biz, JIZZ! (Unintentional)

Itch, witch, gitch, litch, B....! (Unintentional)

Hunt, runt, zunt, lunt, C....! (Unintentional)

Sass, nass, lass, bass, ASS! (Unintentional)

Sick,  Rick, Lick, Nick, D...! (Unintentional)

Hit, bit, git, rit, dit, SH..! (Hopefully unintentional)

Bigger, Tigger, N.....! GAHHHH! stop rhyming!!!!!

Dialogue with a six year old

At one hour post bedtime E peeks her head in my room;
"I just need to take this (diamond costume jewellery) to get it wet. I need it to change my dreams if they get bad, or switch from dream to dream to dream. I need to wash it because it has to be clean. It works bad if it is not clean."
 What is interesting to me is that all on her own, she has developed ritualized coping strategies for the things "that bump the night". She has used the same piece of costume jewellery and has the same ritual of getting it wet, rolling it in a face cloth, shaking it out, jingling it in her hand, whizzing it about a bit to test it's strength. It doesn't happen every day, but it has been occurring since she was three and a half or so.



E: I have a song for you, Mama: "I looooooove you Mamma, even when I'm dead. I looooooooove you Mamma, even when you're dead. Dead dead dead, dead, dead, dead, deeeeeeaaaaaaadddddd....
DEEEEAAAAAADDDDD! (Jazz hands flourish, spin and drop to one knee) TAH-dah!
Do you like it, Mum?     0.0


"I have been thinking, Mum, and I think that I really do not want a very, very dangerous job. Like a fireman, or a saver guy. when I grow up. Because I like to be comfortable.


Me:"E, there was a bat flying around the house last night!"
E: "Why didn't I see it?"
Me: "You guys were asleep. Dad and I were downstairs and all of a sudden, a bat starts flying around! I don't know how he got in. I wonder if he has been in the house all day! So we opened up the big doors and..."
E:"Did you take a picture?"
Me: "No, actually I didn't think to in all the excitement..."
E: "I don't believe you."
Me: "Really? Why not?"
E: "I really need prooth. Like a picture to prooth to me it really happened. It's my scienthitic mind."
Me: "Oh, I see."



Picking blueberries together and for conversation I say,"Ask me a question."
Z: "How did pterodactyls fly?"
E: (scoffs),"That's easy! They had hollow bones and they didn't fly, the glided, they didn't figure out real flying until they became birds. I have a question: How did the earth begin exactly? How did all the plants and animals and water and rocks and people happen and what was there before our earth? That's what I want to know!"
Me: "That is going to take a while..."
E: "That's ok, I got time."

E: When I grow up, I want to be the owner of a restaurant that has the best kids play place in the world and also the best food. Will will also have music. and YOU can work for me , Mum, because you will need something to do when I grow up, but I won't pay you because you are my Mum. Well, I will pay you with love, maybe.

E: "Mum, why do you have skin on the back of you arm that is not filled with bone and when I wiggle it, it goes 'wolla wolla wolla?' why is it like that?"
Me: "That is where I store my cape, so if I am needed, I can whip it out and go save something."
E: "Prooth it."
Me: "There is no emergency right now."
E: "There is an emergency somewhere in the world."
....we stare at each other straight faced for a while...
E: "Ok, then."

Zackisms

Z: "Uncle Jason, I love you."
Uncle Jason: "You just love my candy stash."
Z: "It's pretty empty right now."


Z has his training wheels off for good now. We made attempts when he was 3, but he wouldn't stop. What do training wheels have to do with stopping? No one knows.  But now he has figured out stopping and therefore has no training wheels and has immediately moved on to stunting.
He is  riding his bike and picking his feet off the pedals, making weird maneuvers, wobbling dangerously.
Me, riding behind him, "Mr. Lincoln! do not pull stunts while we are riding on the road!"
Z: "I AM NOT STUNTING!" Snarls, growls.
  Me: "Excuse me?"
Z, Exasperated: "These... are... cool... moves." He made sure to say that very slowly so his poor, dim mother could understand.
Z,"Have you ever seen a guy ride his bike up a tree, back-flip it around, jump over a car and not fall off?'
Me, "No"
Z: "I am going to be that guy."
Me, "Just wear your helmet and keep your shoes on."
Z, "OKAY-YUH ...but that's boring"
Me, "What does boring mean, Z?"
Z, "It means I don't want to listen to you."


Eating outside and the crickets are so loud we are almost shouting over them. Dad kind of shorts a circuit and blurts,"I wish these crickets would pipe down!"
They keep cricketing.
E yelps, "Crickets! Be Silent!"
Crickets keep cricketing.
Z bellows, "HEY CRICKETS! WILL YA PIPE DOWN??!!"
Silence.
We all look at Z.
He had the same look on his face as Superman did when he realized he could fly.


"This game is boring!"
"What does boring mean, Z?"
"It means I don't like to loose."

"Get dressed, Z"
"NO! Getting dressed is boring!"
"What does boring mean, Z?"
"It means I want to wear my spider-man suit."

Z running around with socks on his hands, feet and sticking out of his pockets: "I am SOCK GUY!"

At Home Depot looking at paint samples. There is one of those 15 foot stairwell ladders beside us. Z takes off his shoes and socks and pulls a pair of bright pink fuzzy gloves over his feet.
"I am GLOVE ON FEET GUY!"
"Ok, buddy."
Exactly one instant later, "HEY MOM!"
Glove-on-feet-guy has just climbed the 15 foot stairwell ladder and is about to transfer himself to the very top shelf, 15 feet above me."GLOVE ON FEET GUY CAN FLY!"
Everybody in store the collectively gasps. I think someone shrieked. I laser focus on my boy.
Me: "Get...DOWN. 1...2..."
Z: "Okay OKAY! Just don't count!"
Without the power of 1...2... I would have nothing. The threat of what might happen if I get past...3 is Kryptonite for him. For some reason, I have never had to go beyond the 3 and produce anything. Which is good, because there is nothing there. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.



"I want...I wish I had the Carmel-coloured-Gogogon-that-has-white-stripes-that-is square-and-I-don't-know-what-it-turns-into. I wish I had that." This is what we heard on a 45 sec loop for weeks. Any time He remembered that he wanted the Carmel-coloured-Gogogon-that-has-white-stripes-that-is-square-and-I-don't-know-what-it-turns-into, he would not hesitate to remind us. Constantly.

So the day came and they we going to get a toy. They had worked for it and been good for it, and Z was in the midst of a nasty tonsil/belly double whammy, so he was going to go get a toy. When he was at the toy store, he saw a Bumble-Bee Transformer. (And this is where I admit that my husband took a sick kid to a toy store. It builds your immune system, okay? Shut-up.)  Dazzled by the Transformer, he decided to get that instead.
Within a few minutes of playing with this too-complicated toy, Z realizes his mistake.
Tears and heartbreak: "I chose the wrong toy! I CHOSE THE WRONG TOY!"
Me, "You, Z, have buyer's remorse. You were dazzled by the fancy toy, and you forgot about what you really wanted. Remember this, kiddo, this is important stuff."
Z, "I didn't want a horse! I wanted a Carmel-coloured-Gogogon-that-has-white-stripes-that-is-square-and-I-don't-know-what-it-turns-into! You are boring, MUM!"
Me, "What does boring mean, Z?"
Z, "It means I got the wrong toy!"



"This walk is boring!"
"What does boring mean, Z?"
"It means, my feet hurt."

Reading an encyclopedia for kids about atoms, we discover that the nucleus of an atom is like a bean and the atom is a football field and the rest is space. The kids deduct from this that since there is so much space between the nucleus and it's atom, they should be able to run through "solid" objects, like the wall. So they try. And try. I stopped the experiment before concussions, though. Gotta love science!


"This food is boring."
"What does boring mean,Z?"
"It means not really very good."



Z: "When I go to sleep a night, My friend Wolfie comes and gets me and I ride his back all night. Then in the morning, he waits for me in the woods until I sleep again."

I have animal friends in the forest, and if you don't give me a popsicle, I will make them eat you.

Z was mad at Mum and Dad. Mad in the fist clenching snarl-faced way that only a furious 4 year old can be. He is forbidden to use the word "Stupid" and had been sent from the table for calling his food "boring". As he leaves to go to the stairs, positively vibrating in anger, he turns to us and through clenched teeth and squinched eyes he says: "You, you, you....you......PIGGY BALLS!"
Have you ever tried to maintain "Stern Parent Face" Whilst choking with laughter? It hurts.

"The snarlface"

I just wanted to be "Red Hands and Foot Guy..."

What do you mean, "stand normally" This IS my normal!

Mrs. Confuffle, we camped again.

Dearest Mrs. Confuffle,

We have just returned from our  voyage into the mountains and as promised, I have written my yearly letter to you regarding our trip. Do you remember last years accommodations? Well, we have stepped up this year with our lively new pop-up! My dear, there is space for 8, electricity, a little stove and ice box! We brought our espresso machine! Heated mattress pads! What joy. We smiled sympathetically at the unfortunates in their tents, I am sure they appreciated our empathy.
Our children are four and six now and we felt them ready to observe new freedoms around the campsite. Of course this lead directly to them abusing these freedoms, as when our daughter enticed our son to pick a fight with a boy at the playground: A boy older and bigger than our son, and also skilled in karate, as became apparent when he soundly trounced our son and roundhoused his bottom.
To his credit, our dear boy did not come yowling to his parents, but instead, withdrew, had a think, then seemed to ally himself with his former adversary. It is good to know when you are bested, and better to know how to put yourself in the good graces of those who can whollop you. This childhood milestone I observed from a distance, and I am greatly entertained by the social dynamics of unattended children, although I do believe our daughter could one day grow up to be a dictator of sorts.
We are at a stage with our younglings where they are learning about the world: History, culture, geography, race,language, physicality. Everything is an  amazing discovery, and their questions are fast and many and usually delivered at top volume. As when we were canoeing down the Saco river. Along side of us floated a lovely couple, one of whom was very dark skinned. Our boy promptly proclaimed: "That man is BLACK! Like  REALLY BLACK! LOOK! I have never seen such a black, black man!" He was so excited. I smiled what I am sure was a perfectly natural smile.  I waved at the couple and told my son, "Isn't it great that there are so many people who are so many different colors in this world?" My son responded,"Yes, but that man looks like CHOCOLATE! What does he taste like?"  I might add that this couple was within earshot. I answered, "Some people are the colour of chocolate, some are the colour of cinnamon, some the colour of  hotdog buns. People come in all colours. You know that." He  absorbed that information, and we drifted away. Soon enough, their canoe passed ours again and again the boy piped up," HEY! There is that dark, black, chocolate man again!"
I asked my son, "Do you like it when someone points at you and says HEY! LOOK! That kid is little!"
"No!" exclaimed my son. I continued, "People don't like it when other people point at them and say things. It is extremely impolite." I continued," It is ok to notice things. We all notice things, and you may quietly tell me things you notice, but do not speak so loud that the person hears you."  He seemed to consider this."What if I like something, can I say something then?" I smile."That is a compliment and people like to hear those. If you like something about someone, go ahead and say it."
The next time we float by the couple, My dear boy chirps, "It's the dark, black, chocolate man!" And waves. He turns to me. "I like that." He says.
And so, Mrs. Confuffle, our educations continues.

 This year proved to hold a new adventure for our Aber. He must be growing suspicious of the mountains, I fear. Last year abandonment, this year he fell off a small waterfall. Apparently he was following my husband and son across rocks where there were some sizable watershoots, lost his footing and was sucked over. From where I was though, it rather more looked like my husband threw him over, them jumped after him. The gasps from the passers-by certainly seemed to indicate the latter. My husband claimed that when the dog started to go over, he had to release the leash and hoped Aber would pop up on the other side. When he didn't, my husband valiantly threw himself after him. And promptly landed on top of the poor beast, who was not stuck under a roiling pool, but in fact clinging to the edge of the rock face, being pummeled by the  falling water. Seeing my dog and husband leap over that falls was terrifically exciting to my son, who let out a whoop of excitement and seemed perched to join them, and I made a dash across the rocks to stop him. That is when I heard a shriek and saw my daughter, who had been defiantly testing her abilities (-and my patience, I might add) that day, fell in herself. Just into a pool, but still. All this danger and excitement led me to unleash a most vehement sounding, "Jesus Christ!!" And all the observers gasped again.

Nearing the end of our trip, after hiking to the tallest waterfalls in the state, climbing down gorges, swimming and paddling down the river,and visiting historic sites on top of Mount Washington, My husband developed bronchitis and pneumonia, which defaulted me into packing us up solo and hauling us home. A rather exciting first, as I had not had the chance to tow the pop-up. Yet I made it home without having to back it up. As the sick convalesced the next day after doctor visits, I decided it was time to practice backing up the trailer, which I can now do rather well although during my trails, I did back it up through my garden. Once or twice.We had too much lettuce anyway.

I do hope you consider coming with us next year, Mrs. Confuffle. You would find camping with the Lincolns to be filled with limitless potential for adventure!
Regards,
Mrs. K. Munday Lincoln

Atathrusa Falls

Trying to give an idea of how steep the gorge trail was-Very steep.

Cathedral Ledge

Mt. Washington cog railway

Mt. Washington-windiest place on earth!

Lake of the clouds as seen from the top of Mt. Washington

swimmers